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Not the centre of the universe
How its like !
A chance that slips through
Like a quick sand
Each new move

A rail of misfortune
Thinking... goals should've been achieved

Irritated
******
Questioning the path taken
I thought everything was on my side

The river flows forward
Never disperse
Wishing for a same clear path

Adamant
Swimming all I knew
Is it a sign, convert
Indeed the sun doesn't only rotate in my world

Inoperable
Shall venture new domain
This one life
Find true purpose
Not to leave in vain
Asher Dec 15
I want to be a vtuber,
a pixelated dream,
to dance on a virtual stage,
adorable, agleam.

I want to be an idol,
a songbird on display,
to twirl beneath the spotlight,
in a shimmering ballet.

I want to be a teacher,
to guide and to inspire,
to plant seeds of knowledge
and watch them catch fire.

I want to be famous,
my name a whispered prayer,
to revel in the chaos
of adoration's snare.

I want to be problematic,
a storm you can't ignore,
to stir the hearts of critics,
to leave them wanting more.

I want people to judge me,
to love me through their hate,
to draw the broken masses
like moths to flame's estate.

I want to be known,
to etch my name in skies,
to bask in fleeting glory,
to chase eternal highs.

I can be anything,
a shapeshifting cascade,
a dreamer, a rebel,
a shadow, a parade.
A M Ryder Nov 27
If only they asked us who we were
Instead of what we hoped to be
Perhaps the tides of life would stir
And drown the myth of destiny

We walked where others led
Convinced the end was worth the pain
But found the paths we hoped to tread
Were mirrored trails that looped in vain

Who we are was never asked
And who we are, we'll never know
A shadow cast, a question masked
By what they'd hope we'd choose to show

Who decides what form we take?
What mold could hold the restless mind?
The world, it seems, must bend or break
Yet asks the broken to be kind

On we marched, a scripted role
Each line rehearsed, each step aligned
But with every act, we dug a hole
And buried parts we'll never find

Deep beneath the guise
When all ambition fades away
We'll find no answers, just the lies
We told ourselves a long the way

The void, at last, will fill the space
Where questions hung and answers fled
It cares not of our time, or our place
It gazes back and calls us dead

So in the end, when the silence grows
And all masks are cast away
The self we left unloved, will show
And greet us as if we never strayed
It begins

With fiery jokes about Canada  
And your hair, blazing, untamed

Is it maybe your stunning mind
I am simmering, 180 degrees

Perhaps it is the cookies we bake,  
The stories we share,
the laughter we shape
With such SERIOUS faces

I could look at you for hours.
Your beauty defies all word
But it's not even that —

Your charm and confidence  —
you wear them like a crown
—I know it must hurt

It could be your ambition
That I truly love so much

This burning sensation is so strange
I know you won't like this, but
This love, like wine, leaves me  
soaked, spinning, dizzy

I am just not used to this—
I've never wanted anybody to feel so good in life
But it is what I want for you

I feel so free,

You are too —

You know the moon is free falling too
21-11-2024
E.A.
Cassandra Nov 16
Born with a small twitching body,
with a small soft face
living a small life,
Repulsed, filled with rage and hate.
One day i will wake up
and do something great.

Extraordinary, truly remarkable,
Etch something coarse
on the parchment of fate,
One day i will wake up,
Unforgettable,
and do something great.

Write a list of the big differences I can make,
Go deep, scratch all my dreams' buried surface
Maybe one day little things will add to a lot,
The fears will fade,
I will do something great.
So many things to do, so little time, so much fear. everything intertwined
Lizzie Bevis Nov 13
Ambition's wings
soar as a driving force,
elevating thoughts
to chart a new course.

Yet, talented minds,
grounded in place,
disengage gifted brains
wasting this space.

This unfurled potential
a bird's dream of flight,
without a thought or clue
of where it is migrating to.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Inspired by a quote attributed to Salvador Dali ‘Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings’
Boris Cho Nov 11
The vintage shop sits quietly, unassuming in the heart of a small and beautiful town surrounded by a body of water and cliffs, its timeworn facade a gateway to a world where old becomes new under the hands of a gifted fashion designer. Inside, the racks are draped not just with garments, but with stories; threads of lives lived, meticulously chosen and revived by a woman whose creativity knows no bounds. She is not just the store’s curator but its alchemist, turning faded fabrics into expressions of something bold and modern.

Her ambition is clear in every stitch and seam. She reimagines each piece, blending the charm of bygone eras with her own artistic vision. To her, these are not mere clothes; they are canvases, waiting for her touch to bring them back to life in ways that honor their past but fit seamlessly into the present.

Her dedication is evident, from the way she moves about her shop with a discerning eye to the late hours spent sketching and sewing in her workshop. In her hands, something as simple as an old jacket becomes a quilted statement, a reminder that beauty, when crafted with passion, never fades; it evolves. Here, in this vintage store, old souls are reborn, one design at a time.



In the heart of Elora, she weaves her threads,
A seamstress of stories, where vintage is led.
With eyes that see beauty in worn-out seams,
She stitches the past into tomorrow’s dreams.

Her hands know the fabric, each fold and line,
Crafting with patience, her vision divine.
Upcycled wonders, they whisper of care,
Each stitch a promise, each garment a prayer.

In the warmth of her shop, the old comes alive,
Threads of yesterday help futures to thrive.
She’s more than a tailor, she’s more than a name;
A creator, a giver, her kindness untamed.

— Sincerely, Boris
Antonio Nov 7
If instead of a human being,
pain and suffering grinds against your crotch,
will your sickness and desire be healed,
or it will be traumatized for all the unsaid sins,
dig me higher and you might laugh at me,
but maybe, only maybe if you really try,
and take whatever is left of me and keep it tight
you will see the man i try to be, a much needed change, even thought it doesn't seem.
Zywa Oct 31
Ambition is: not

valuing yourself enough --


It is a defect.
Novel "Requiem voor een vriend" ("Requiem for a friend", 2002, Han Voskuil), chapter 1951-1956, August 9th, 1954 - Amsterdam, Han Voskuil (and Jan Bruggeman ['Breugelman'])

Collection "Not too bad"
Sarra Oct 24
I drew a barrier in the sand


A boundary
To my curious senses

A limit
To my driven desires

A lock
On my hopeful ambition
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